


Friendly Fire

by fuzipenguin



Series: Half Your Age +7 [29]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Battle wounds, Established Relationship, M/M, Older!Twins, Other, Twincest, younger!ratchet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 04:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17953700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sunstreaker is probably at least 75% of Sideswipe's impulse control.





	Friendly Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said: “For you to believe I have any sort of happiness in me right now is absurd.” - young!Ratch

                “I literally just fixed you,” Ratchet said after a moment of staring. “It’s been fifteen minutes. _Fifteen minutes.”_

                Sideswipe flinched, although Ratchet couldn’t tell if it was due to Ratchet’s vehemently pointed finger or the bomb that dropped just a short distance away from the medic tent. Debris scattered against the wall of the hastily erected structure, but Ratchet ignored it.

                He’d long since gotten over the strut-deep fear of being a stationary target.

                … or rather he’d gotten used to hiding it. It probably made Sideswipe twitchy, though.

                “It wasn’t my fault!” Sideswipe protested, waving his detached arm at Ratchet. “It was friendly fire! So if you want to blame someone, blame Flange!”

                “Flange, huh?” Ratchet barked, grabbing hold of the limb and yanking it from Sideswipe’s grasp. “The guy you publically humiliated in front of the whole base last week? _That_ Flange?”

                Sideswipe’s optics widened as he sat on the berth Ratchet shoved him in the direction of. “Oh. Yeah, I did do that, didn’t I? … well! It’s not like I shot _his_ arm off! This is waaaay over-reacting!”

                Ratchet raised an orbital ridge in disbelief and then leaned in to peer at Sideswipe’s sparking shoulder joint.

                “Is it? How would you feel if pictures of _your_ interfacing equipment were sent to every Autobot in a three hundred mile radius?” Ratchet demanded, poking at some exposed wires. “I honestly don’t doubt that the Decepticons have some by now as well.”

                “Uh, I’d be _proud!_ Sunstreaker decorated my spike himself and it’s a damn work of art,” Sideswipe replied immediately, with not a single ounce of shame. “And if the artistic heathen hadn’t insulted it in the first place, I wouldn’t have distributed images of _his_ boring old spike. Idiot doesn’t know his Old Cybertronian glyphs from a hand grena… ow! Watch it, Cuteness!”

                “I am watching it! I watch you make a fool out of yourself on a daily basis!” Ratchet snapped, plugging into Sideswipe’s neck port and initiating a nerve block higher up. “No one reads Old Cybertronian anymore anyway!!”

                Sideswipe subsided under Ratchet’s glower and he took a different approach. “I could have been killed, you know! Flange could have shot out my spark instead of my arm. You think you’d be happy I’m not dead.”

                Ratchet reared back and looked at Sideswipe with an unimpressed stare. “If you think I have any sort of happiness in me right now, you’d be dead _wrong_. I cannot wait for Sunstreaker to get here and help me sparkling-sit you… sending pictures of Flange’s spike out to everyone, _really._ ”

                “Hey! I’m older than you are!” Sideswipe protested.

                “Sometimes I wonder!” Ratchet growled. He shoved at Sideswipe until he was prone on his back. “Now shut up so I can reattach this and send you back out there. And if you come back in here after another fifteen minutes, I’m going to weld you to the nearest missile!”

 

~ End

 


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